


Uptown Girls (You Must Like Me For Me)

by wherehopelies



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, High Society AU, Mostly Fluff, i love my soft babies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-14
Updated: 2018-12-31
Packaged: 2019-05-07 02:02:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14661042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherehopelies/pseuds/wherehopelies
Summary: Emily wasn’t made for this life, for the ball gowns and the galas and petty small talk. She was made for rock shows and skinny jeans and sneaking out of the house at 2am. // Aubrey was made for galas and ball dresses and empty smiles. She wasn’t made for bars like this.or the high society au where emily abhors everything about that lifestyle except for aubrey, and aubrey has a reputation, but emily doesn't care





	1. Enchanted

**Author's Note:**

> copied over from my junksen minifics... this will have a few parts

Emily wasn’t made for this life, for the ball gowns and the galas and petty small talk.

She was made for rock shows and skinny jeans and sneaking out of the house at 2am.

“Here, Princess,” her father says, handing her a glass of champagne for the speech and the inevitable toasts to follow.

She doesn’t want to be a Princess. She doesn’t want to be here. She wants to be anyone and anywhere else.

But she doesn’t have that luxury. Not when her parents are who they are. Her mother, inheritor of the Junk family fortune and legacy. Her father, state Senator.

These events always make her antsy and anxious. The underhanded insults. Gossip and lies and power plays. Speeches and donations and extravagance that would be better spent on people who need it.

The speeches start and Emily fidgets with her diamond bracelet, a gift from her mother. How trivial this all is. How shallow these people are.

She can’t resist the urge to glance around. She knows it’s rude, knows she’s supposed to be enraptured by their key speaker, but she isn’t. She drags her eyes across the ballroom, over politicians and businesswomen and Wall Street wolves.

And then - her.

She looks just like the rest of them. Except she doesn’t. Blonde hair over sharp cheekbones, half up in an elegant and effortless kind of way. Red nails gripping a flute of champagne. A feminine and powerful suit. Pointed heels.

Emily’s staring. And then there are eyes meeting hers and Emily blushes, wants to look away, but she can’t.

The raising of a perfect eyebrow. A playful smirk. Red lipstick.  _I could just eat you up_ , this girl’s entire look says.

_Focus, Emily_.

She rips her gaze away and resolutely draws her attention back to the speaker.

She glances back in the girl’s direction every few minutes, but she never meets Emily’s eyes again.

//

The only good thing about these events is the food.

Emily stuffs herself on o'dourves and salad and fancy finger foods. And the dessert table? She lives there.

“Better than sex,” a voice says, and Emily almost drops her cupcake.

“Pardon?”

The girl. She’s reaching for the same kind of chocolate cupcake Emily’s biting into. “The waiter told me that about these cupcakes.” She raises an eyebrow at Emily. “Is it true, then?”

Emily blushes. “Guess that depends on who it’s with.”

“Mm,” the blonde hums, giving Emily an appraising look. “Touche.” She bites into her own cupcake and Emily watches her tongue poke out to lick at residual chocolate on her lips.

_Focus, Emily_.

She tears her gaze away again.

“I haven’t you seen you around,” the girl says. “You must be new to this world. I’m certain I would’ve remembered you.”

_Charming,_ Emily thinks.  _But aren’t they all?_

“I try to avoid them as often as possible,” Emily admits. “Not my scene.”

“And what is your scene, then?”

Emily pauses. The girl seems to be genuinely asking. “Like, a dive bar on the East side. Some dark grungy place with music. Loud music. So loud you can’t think.”

The girl nods minutely. Contemplatively. “Sounds like a dream. Wish I could go.”

“So go,” Emily says, like it’s simple. To her it is.

The girl smiles. “But what would Daddy say?” She murmurs, almost to herself.

Emily tilts her head to the side, thinking. “Come with me?”

“To a bar?” The girl asks incredulously.

“No,” Emily giggles. “But somewhere better than this.”

“I can’t leave the party,” the girl frowns, dejected and disappointed.

Emily grabs another two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. “You won’t,” she replies. “Technically.”

The girl seems hesitant, a crack in her confident demeanor. “We just met.”

“Then you can feel no guilt blaming it on me if it goes downhill, right?” Emily grins when the girl laughs.

“I suppose that’s true.”

“I’m Emily, by the way.”

The girl delicately extends her hand, the chandelier lights above them glinting off her rings. “Aubrey Posen. It’s enchanting to meet you.”

//

“The roof?”

“I told you we technically weren’t leaving.”

“This is quite cliche of you, Emily.”

Emily just laughs. “Is it working?”

Aubrey pauses for a long moment. “Maybe.”

Emily beams.

//

Aubrey stares wistfully out at the city lights. Emily stares wistfully at Aubrey.

“It’s pretty,” Aubrey murmurs.

“It is,” Emily agrees.

They drink their champagne and they don’t talk about the party. They don’t gossip or talk about money or politics or what their parents do to get invited to such events.

They talk about New York. They talk about college. They talk about music.

Emily’s chest constricts every time Aubrey smiles. Their hands brush and Emily shivers.

“Are you cold?” Aubrey says suddenly.

And Emily shakes her head, but Aubrey’s already taking off her suit jacket. She drapes it over Emily’s shoulders and rests her arm behind Emily’s on the roof. Emily leans back into her.

They’re close. Emily can smell Aubrey’s perfume or shampoo whenever the wind blows just right. She wants to reach out and feel the material of her white shirt.

When she glances up, Aubrey’s eyes are on hers, intense and dark.

Emily’s breath stutter-steps, tripping over itself, her lungs clumsy with night air and Aubrey.

“Hmm,” Aubrey hums, her teeth biting over her lower lip. Emily’s wonderstruck, staring at this person, this girl, this  _phenomenon_ of a woman.

She’s not Emily’s type. Not this elegant, worldly affluence personified.

And yet -

She closes her eyes, the space between them disappearing in an instant.

A loud laugh from below jerks Emily backward. Her cheeks burn and she peers over the edge of the building, watching as party-goers spill out into the night, silhouetted against the light of the building.

“Party’s over, I guess,” Emily whispers lowly.

Aubrey still has her eyes closed and she blinks them open. “I’d forgotten there was a different world inside.”

“Me too,” Emily murmurs.

“I had better go,” Aubrey says, regret in her tone.

Emily reluctantly gives her suit jacket back. “Guess so.”

Aubrey hesitates, then she presses her lips to Emily’s cheek. “Thanks for the adventure. See you around. Or not.” Her confidence unfolds around her, like Emily can almost visibly see her zipping herself up in it.

Then she’s smirking again and disappearing back into the party.

Emily takes another glance over the edge of the building, and follows behind her.

//

Emily’s distracted on the drive home. Squished between her parents in the town car, she drowns out their gossip and party criticism.

She’s thinking of Aubrey, of their almost kiss, wondering what would have happened if they had.

Emily doesn’t want to hope, doesn’t want to think this is the first page of some kind of story. Not in this world, where everything is vapid and not what it seems.

Still she wonders, thinking of the sparkling of Aubrey’s eyes, the warmth of her arm behind her. Steady, like someone you could lean on.

_Please don’t be in love with someone else_ , Emily thinks.  _Please don’t have somebody waiting on you._

“...fake as Charlene’s fur jacket, is what they are. Despicable. Giving some bullshit about making the city safer and he’s what? Helping Wall Street criminals get off on technicalities.”

“I know dear, the Posens have always been like that. You remember how my father…”

Emily jerks back into the present.

“The Posens?” She interrupts and her parents look at her.

“Yes. George Posen, he’s the one who was giving the speech, darling.”

“Oh…” Emily hadn’t been listening during the speech.

Her father hums disapprovingly. “Best criminal lawyer out there. And by that I mean the worst. He’s gotten more rich murderers and thieves off than anyone. Making the city safer… Ha. I’ll eat my arm if - ”

Emily tunes out, suddenly feeling sick to her stomach.

She’s so stupid.  _This_ is why she doesn’t come to these things.

Her phone buzzes in her clutch and she pulls it out, seeing a text from an unknown number.

_Emily - this is Aubrey. Aubrey Posen._

Emily drops her phone facedown in her lap, glancing around to see her if her parents saw the text. But no, they’re preoccupied griping about someone new now.

She flips her phone back over.

_How did you get my number_

_You could say I have connections._

And Emily wants to scoff, wants to tell Aubrey to not talk to her, to delete her number immediately.  

But then her phone is buzzing again.

_I just wanted to say thank you again. Tonight with you felt like a different world. I truly felt like a different person, like someone I actually enjoyed being for once. So just... thank you. And if it wouldn’t trouble you, I’d love to see you again - Aubrey_

Emily frowns, trying to ignore the way her stomach flips, they way her lips want to pull upward.

She hesitates, her parents opinions ringing in her head, her dislike of the way this world exists like a waltz, back and forth and spinning, a tightrope to walk until you fall or soar.

_I’d like that_ , she says at last.  _I’d like that a lot._

And she somehow finds she means it.


	2. Delicate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey had built confidence from inherited looks, she manufactured power from inherited money. She sculpted her reputation out of marble, a masterpiece for those to admire but never touch.
> 
> But then - Emily. One night, one touch - one look - and Aubrey would have been content to tear it all down.

The taste of nervousness is unfamiliar to Aubrey. She rolls it around in her mouth, twisting her lips and trying not to bite her fingernails.

_Don’t be undignified, Aubrey,_  her father says in her head.

_Relax, Aubrey_ , she tells herself.

She’s not relaxed, and she knows it. Has been pruned her entire life to look it while not being it. Her fingers clench around her cell phone, and her foot taps under the table, but if you couldn’t see those things, you might say she was simply bored.

Her back is straight, but not tense, her eyes alert, but uninterested.

Her outfit - a little fancier than the place would suggest, but Aubrey is a firm believer that there is no such thing as overdressed.

_Relax, Aubrey,_  she repeats.  _This is just a bar._

But it’s not the bar that has her insides twisting, although her father would scoff at the place, would look down his nose at Aubrey for even considering stepping foot into such an establishment.

But no, it’s not the bar. It’s who she’s waiting for  _in_  the bar.

Aubrey Posen does not get nervous, but she doesn’t feel much like Aubrey Posen when she’s thinking of Emily Junk.

And she can’t  _stop_  thinking of Emily.

Aubrey’s possessed by her. Thoughts of Emily distract her waking hours and dreams of her haunt her restless nights.

She’s replayed their evening over in her head time and again. She’s combed the internet and social media for every piece of information about the girl. She’s been glued to her phone for weeks, replying to all of Emily’s texts in an instant.

She is exactly what her father would call undignified.

And she doesn’t  _care_.

That’s the most infuriating part. She just doesn’t  _care_. Her image, the way people see her, this is what her father raised her to see as her most crucial form of currency. Money, yes, important. But her reputation? Invaluable.

“Your reputation will get you places money cannot, Aubrey,” her father would say. “You must tend to it like a garden. You must grow rose bushes that hide thorns, and most importantly, know when to show both.”

Aubrey had taken this lesson to heart. She built confidence from inherited looks, she manufactured power from inherited money. She sculpted her reputation out of marble, a masterpiece for those to admire but never touch.

But then - Emily. One night, one touch -  _one look_  - and Aubrey would have been content to tear it all down.

Aubrey has always had plans, a path to walk toward success.

Now she’s in uncharted waters, and she doesn’t know if she’ll sink or swim.

_Sink_ , she thinks the moment she lays eyes on Emily.  _Drown and be glad for it._

Aubrey was made for galas and ball dresses and empty smiles. She wasn’t made for bars like this.

But Emily - she fits into the place like she was born fully-bodied in this very spot. Her hair in a high and flowing ponytail, her jeans, tight on her long legs, her smile, like a breath of fresh air, like  _easy_  and  _perfect_  and  _home_  -

_Relax, Aubrey_.

“Hey,” Emily beams at her and Aubrey’s nerves kick into high gear. She stands from her table to shake hands or just as a social courtesy, but Emily wraps her arms around Aubrey’s neck, pulling her into a hug.

Even in her Nikes, Emily’s taller than Aubrey in heels. She can feel Emily’s nose at her hairline and her chin against Aubrey’s cheek.

When she pulls back, her smile is so full and genuine, and Aubrey lets it fill her up, the way Emily isn’t like Aubrey, the way she isn’t stiff and calculated and… and  _fake_.

“It’s good to see you,” Aubrey says, and she means it. She means it more than she could possibly convey.

“I love your hair like this,” Emily gushes, her fingers tugging at the wavy locks that Aubrey didn’t have time to straighten to perfection because she’d been too out of it pacing around her room to get rid of her nerves. “It’s totally unfair how gorgeous you are.”

“I - stop,” Aubrey murmurs. Aubrey is gorgeous, she knows it. People tell her all the time. She’s polished and collected and -

She’s mush, a total puddle, enamored by everything  _Emily_.

_Relax, Aubrey, Jesus._

“Let me get you a drink,” Emily says, and she’s tugging Aubrey’s hand, pulling them toward the bar. She orders a beer, and Aubrey’s go-to is a martini, dry, extra olives, and she’s opening her mouth to say that but what comes out instead is -

“I’ll have what she’s having.”

She doesn’t feel much like Aubrey Posen around Emily.

And she likes it.

//

“This isn’t really what I imagined when you said you were going to show me a bar,” she says later. “I was under the impression you liked them so loud you can’t think.”

Emily scrunches her nose in a laugh. “This is better for talking.”

“Only if you lean in really close,” Aubrey points out, and it sounds like she’s complaining but she  _isn’t._  God, she isn’t.

“Well I wanted an excuse to be close to you,” Emily counters, her hand on Aubrey’s thigh, Aubrey’s arm behind her in the booth. Aubrey is  _very_  aware of the distance between them. It’s not much, and still, it feels too far.

She meets Emily’s gaze. “Your forwardness is kind of alarming.”

“Is it working?” Emily giggles, and Aubrey’s stomach swoops.

She takes a second to compose herself, doesn’t want to give herself away with a trembling voice. “Maybe,” she says at last. It’s all she can manage.

Emily grins, her eyes focusing on Aubrey’s, and Aubrey’s nerves flutter in full-force.

“I changed my mind,” Emily says after a second.

“Did you?” Aubrey has no idea what she’s talking about.

“Yeah,” Emily nods, her voice so low Aubrey almost can’t hear, her breath on Aubrey’s lips. “Talking’s overrated.”

When they kiss, Aubrey forgets her own name.

//

“I’m not sure I understand,” Chloe’s saying, staring at Aubrey in the mirror.

They’re in Chloe’s apartment, sitting at her vanity. She’s doing Aubrey’s hair, one of her favorite hobbies, and just chatting. It’s easy, familiar. Maybe the one place Aubrey feels good about her father’s influence on her life. Without her father, she wouldn’t be friends with Chloe.

“Why would you want to date someone who makes you feel unlike yourself?”

Aubrey twists her hands in her lap. “No, not unlike myself. Just… not like Aubrey Posen.”

Chloe frowns. “I don’t see how that’s different.”

And Aubrey can’t explain it. She  _can’t_. She knows it sounds crazy, knows it doesn’t make sense, knows Chloe genuinely wants to understand, because that’s who Chloe is, Aubrey’s best friend since they were toddlers.

Chloe thrives in this world. Not in the same way Aubrey lives here, with effort and planning and careful steps. Chloe exists here with ease. She always has. Always has been a daddy’s girl, happy and bubbly and well-loved by even the worst of the gossipy New York housewives.

Chloe never had to try to be this perfect version of herself. She always was that, and Aubrey both loves and envies her for it.

She just can’t relate.

“I just like her, Chloe, okay?”

Chloe laughs at Aubrey’s sharp tone, always immune to it. “Okay,” she chirps. She runs the brush over Aubrey’s hair. “Is she hot, then?”

“Chloe.” But Aubrey laughs, laughs in the way only her best friend can make her. Chloe raises an eyebrow playfully at Aubrey in the mirror and Aubrey rolls her eyes. “Yeah, she’s hot.”

“Like Megan Fox hot or like Zooey Deschanel hot?”

Aubrey scrunches her nose. “I don’t know. Like Cara Delevingne hot. Or… Gina Rodriguez.”

Chloe smirks. “Let me see a picture.”

“No,” Aubrey scoffs.

Chloe rolls her eyes. “You know I can just stalk her Insta right?”

“Whatever,” Aubrey grumbles and reluctantly shows Chloe a selfie Emily took on their last date.

“Oh shit,” Chloe whispers.

Aubrey nods. “I told you.”

“No, not her. You. You’re hot, oh my word.”

Aubrey laughs, her cheeks flushing. “Chloe.”

“How come you never smile like that around me? Is it love, Bree?”

“Oh my God, stop.” But she can’t help the smile that breaks over her face.

Chloe laughs, full and teasing. “It  _is_.” She sets the hairbrush down on the vanity and puts her cheek up against Aubrey’s. “Well, that’s that, then. I  _must_ meet her.”

“Must you?”

“Of course,” Chloe smiles. “You know it’s been ages since I’ve met anyone you’ve been dating.”

“That’s because I don’t usually date anyone worth knowing.”

Chloe scoffs. “And that’s a damn shame. Your good looks and beautiful heart, completely wasted. And your  _ass_! Truly a travesty.”

“I don’t know why I’m friends with you.”

“For  _my_  ass, duh.”

Aubrey shakes her head in amusement. “God you’re something.”

“You love it,” Chloe laughs.

“No, I don’t,” Aubrey says, but she does.

//

They’re taking it slow, and Aubrey likes it that way, but there’s something about Emily lounging on her couch with her nose in a book that makes Aubrey feel overwhelmed.

She’s supposed to be cooking dinner for them, but she can’t stop staring.

“I can’t see you tonight, I’m sorry,” Emily had said over the phone. “I have too much reading for class.”

“Come to my place,” she’d told Emily. “I’ll cook you dinner and we can do work together. No distractions.”

However, seeing Emily like this, in sweats and a t-shirt, her hair falling gracefully over her shoulders, eyes moving frantically across the page, has Aubrey really wanting to distract her.

It’s just that she’s never felt at home in this apartment. It’s temporary, close to school and small. She barely has any decorations, just minimalist furniture her dad had deemed “cheap but classy.”

But having Emily here, comfortable, relaxed… Aubrey thinks this place could be a mansion with a five star view. It could be somewhere she calls home, somewhere she actually enjoys spending time.

These feelings gather inside Aubrey like a storm. These are not safe feelings. These are Big feelings.

And this thing between them? She’s not sure it’s ready for Big feelings. She knows it’s still kind of new, still delicate, this careful navigation of the space between them.

Sure, they text all the time, and see each other almost daily. They make out in Emily’s quaint apartment in the Village and Emily makes her laugh and looks at Aubrey like she’s  _perfect,_  like she’s exactly what Emily has been looking for.

And maybe Aubrey is. And maybe it’s love. Or maybe it’s getting there.

But their lives are more complicated than that, as it’s made clear to Aubrey when Emily gives her a look at dinner, questioning and open.

“I saw in the paper that your dad won his case,” Emily says, and Aubrey almost flinches because they don’t talk about these things. They don’t talk about their families, about Emily’s previous life in Ohio, the types of people she dated back home, although Aubrey’s seen the long list of them on Facebook. They don’t talk about Aubrey’s dad, their family reputation and the flack they get in the news, criticism and hatred alike, although Emily surely hears about it often.

No. They don’t talk about this stuff.

Perhaps it’s too delicate. Perhaps they wanted to pretend just a bit longer.

Perhaps that’s over now.

“Yes,” Aubrey says, zipping into herself. “It was a successful trial.”

Emily hums thoughtfully, stirring pasta around her fork. “Do you think you’ll follow in his footsteps someday?”

Aubrey has been trained for this question, too. Carefully perfected the response in the mirror.  _I guess time will tell_. A charming laugh, an evasive smile. She’s said it more times than she can count.

“I don’t know,” she replies. Off-script. Emily always makes her go off-script. “I think he wants me to.”

“Well, what do you want?”

_Literally anything else_ , Aubrey thinks. “Honestly?”

Emily scrunches her nose. “Of course.”

“I want to be a journalist.” She’s dreamt of it so long it could be a mantra. She’d fantasized about it long before she applied to Columbia’s J School, long before she was accepted. She doesn’t know what her father thinks of her current education besides his pride at the Ivy League title.

He’s never asked about it and neither has she.

“Well, yeah,” Emily smiles. “I figured.”

“I mean,” Aubrey exhales. “I want to use journalism to bring people to justice. People like… people like my dad.”

“Oh,” Emily says. She sets her fork down carefully, her gaze on Aubrey. She’s so pretty, Aubrey thinks, admiring the perfect slope of her nose and the dark of her eyes. “That’s great, sweetheart.”

Aubrey’s stomach drops. “You think so?”

“Yeah,” Emily smiles, her hand reaching across the table to settle over Aubrey’s. “I think you’d be awesome at that.”

Aubrey closes her eyes, inhaling deeply before she looks back at Emily. “Em.”

“Hmmm?”

“I’m nervous.”

Emily tilts her head to the side curiously. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“I…” Aubrey’s insides twist. The moment feels fragile, like she might say the wrong thing and this will all break. “I don’t want you to get scared and leave.”

Emily’s eyes widen and Aubrey doesn’t understand how Emily makes her like this. Makes her vulnerable and soft and … and … not like the Aubrey Posen her father raised her to be.

“What do you mean?” Emily asks, patient, her fingers weaving between Aubrey’s with care. She’s brought her knee up to her chest and Aubrey thinks how her father would hate that, hate such a horrible display of manners at the dinner table.

Aubrey loves it, feels drunk on it almost.

“My family isn’t easy,” Aubrey explains. “I know how people see us. I know that being associated with the Posen name can cause trouble.” She shrugs. “I just don’t want to get too far into this and have you freak out and go, because I really like you. But I get it if you want to. Dating a Posen isn’t easy. I know that.”

A small smile lifts the corners of Emily’s lips. “Can I tell you something?”

“Yes.”

“Sometimes,” Emily says. “I really forget you’re a Posen.”

Aubrey huffs out a laugh. “Must be nice.”

“I’m serious.” Emily squeezes her hand. “You’re not  _Aubrey Posen_  to me. You’re just Aubrey. And I really like Aubrey. I really like  _you_.”

“You do?”

“ _Yes_.” She gives Aubrey a fond look. “We spend every day together, Aubs. Do you really think I don’t like you?”

Aubrey rolls her eyes at herself. “No, of course I - of course I think you  _like_  me. Stop - stop giving me that smile. Stop it.”

Emily just smiles bigger. “Then what?”

“Nothing. No.” Aubrey picks up her fork again, but Emily is still looking at her and it’s… it’s overwhelming. She’s just so  _much_. “I just don’t feel like Aubrey Posen around you.”

“You don’t?” Emily asks, truly puzzled. “Who do you feel like?”

“It’s like you said,” Aubrey murmurs, embarrassed. “I just feel like… like, Aubrey. I don’t know.”

Emily smirks, this small, gleeful little smile that has Aubrey’s stomach in knots, working her up.

_Relax, Aubrey._

“Hey.” Emily rests her chin on her bent knee, looking at Aubrey softly.

“Hey, what?”

“Be my girlfriend.”

Aubrey freezes. “Girlfriend?”

“Yeah,” Emily laughs. “You know, like I don’t see anyone else, and you don’t see anyone else, and sometimes I spend the night here and when we wake up we have breakfast together.”

“I know what - I know what it is,” Aubrey huffs and Emily just laughs, twirling some more pasta around her fork and stuffing too much in her mouth. Her cheeks puff out with it all. “Your teasing is  _so_  unasked for, Emily.”

Emily raises her eyebrows playfully. “Is it working?” She asks through a full mouth.

Aubrey wonders if this is love.

_Relax, Aubrey._

“Yeah,” Aubrey says. “Yeah, it is.”

Emily beams, pasta in her mouth and all.


	3. Dress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It occurs to Aubrey, vaguely, somewhere between the fog of sex and desire, of the surrounding everything that is Emily, that this is some kind of tipping point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING!!!!!!!!!! nsfw

_Relax, Aubrey_.

That’s all Aubrey can think as she drapes her arms over the banister and stares down into the foyer below. A group of people has just walked in through the large front doors and as Aubrey catches sight of Emily, her entire body flushes with heat.

Her girlfriend is in a tasteful navy blouse with long flowing sleeves. Her white shorts seem to fit her in a way Aubrey finds completely unfair, her tan legs seeming to go on forever. Her dangly gold earrings glitter and her ponytail swishes elegantly around her neck whenever she turns her head.

Aubrey’s entire being aches, the way it always does when she desperately wants something for which she has to wait patiently.

Emily hasn’t seen her yet, has been too busy making introductions, moving about the other guests in that quirky way she has. She’s gesturing to the two people she brought with her, a boy and girl their age who look supremely out of place in the Hampton mansion.

Emily’s friends, Aubrey knows. She hasn’t met them, but Emily talks about them often. Beca and Jesse, classmates she met at NYU. Aubrey watches them curiously, noting the approving look on Chloe’s father’s face as he shakes Jesse’s hand. Beca, it seems, is uninterested in shaking hands; instead her eyes rove over the room critically. Or maybe her face always looks like that. Aubrey’s not sure.

As she’s watching the group, Beca’s eyes turn toward the upstairs and land on Aubrey. She tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowing. They hold eye contact for the briefest of moments, then Beca turns to Emily, lifting on her toes to whisper something in Emily’s ear.

Emily immediately perks up, her head turning to look upstairs, and when she sees Aubrey, she smiles so wide Aubrey’s not sure how her cheeks don’t split.

 _Hi_ , she mouths, and Aubrey doesn’t know why that makes her stomach swoop, but it does.

 _Hi_ , she mouths back.

Why is her heart beating like it just received a direct shot of adrenaline?

_Relax, Aubrey._

Emily’s smile quiets, careful and beautiful and secret, like she knows what Aubrey’s thinking.

Aubrey makes her way down the stairs, and she can feel eyes on her the whole time, eyes that always follow her when she wears dresses like these and her makeup dark. Usually she doesn’t notice, or at least doesn’t care much about it, but in this moment, she knows some of those eyes are Emily’s. She can feel their magnetic weight, staring and dark, and when she meets them again as she steps onto the ground floor, the intensity of Emily’s gaze makes Aubrey flustered and warm.

 _Relax, Aubrey_.

“Aubrey.” Chloe is suddenly at her side, her voice taking on an up-to-no-good quality and making Aubrey’s stomach twist. Her eyes have zeroed in on Emily and she drags Aubrey over to the group, which is fine by her, because that’s where she was going anyway.

“Aubrey!” Mr. Beale’s voice booms in his familiar way, friendly and loud. It always makes Aubrey feel like the center of attention. “Chloe, there you are!”

“Hi, Daddy,” Chloe grins, her eyes still on Emily. Emily doesn’t notice. She’s still looking at Aubrey. Aubrey’s trying not to look at Emily because if she does she might lose her voice, so instead she looks at Beca, but Beca’s staring at Chloe.

Aubrey internally rolls her eyes.

“I’ve just been introduced to our guests for the weekend.” Mr. Beale gestures toward Emily and her friends. “And this young man was telling me how _The Bonfire of the Vanities_ was filmed just down the street from here.”

Jesse sheepishly grins. “I know a lot of fun film facts.”

“You should let other people tell you they’re fun,” Beca mutters.

Emily subtly nudges Beca, but Mr. Beale shakes with laughter. “I like this one, Chloe.”

Chloe smiles at that. “We actually haven’t had the pleasure of meeting.” She offers her hand. “Chloe Beale.”

“Uh.” Beca awkwardly shakes Chloe’s hand. “Beca.”

Jesse shakes Chloe’s hand as well. “Jesse. Jesse Swanson. This is a great place. Thank you for having us.”

“Anytime,” Mr. Beale smiles. “In fact, I was so happy when Chloe said Aubrey was coming with some friends. It’s been ages since you’ve been to the house, Aubrey.”

“Oh,” Aubrey gives him her most charming grin. “You know how it is, Mr. B. The work never stops.”

“Ah, yes, of course. Just like your father.”

Aubrey shifts uncomfortably and feels a hand land on her lower back. She sinks into it.

“Oh, don’t let her fool you, Daddy. When she’s not busy, she’s with Emily.” Chloe’s eyes sparkle playfully and the hand on Aubrey’s back disappears. “No time for us anymore.”

“Oh, please,” Aubrey scoffs, but Mr. Beale chuckles.

“Ah, I see. Well so nice of you to bring your new, uh… ah, _bestie_ around, Aubrey. You know you’re always welcome here. Now if you’ll excuse me, ladies. And young sir.” He looks behind them and moves to talk to someone else.

Beca snorts. “Bestie? Wow, Em, he just gal pal-ed you.”

“Beca, remember what we talked about? I will lock you in a bathroom if you don’t behave.” Emily gives her best friend a look, fond and joking. Aubrey suspects Emily would do no such thing.

Shame. Aubrey definitely has no qualms about the idea.

“Well, finally,” Chloe gushes, pushing Aubrey aside. “It’s nice to meet you, Emily.” She grips Emily by the forearms like they’re old friends and Emily beams.

“Aubrey talks about you a lot. I’m happy to finally meet you,” Emily replies. She turns to her friends. “Beca, Jess, this is Aubrey.”

“Yeah,” Beca says, eyeing Aubrey suspiciously. “I figured.” But she shakes Aubrey’s hand anyway. At least she has _some_ kind of manners, Aubrey concedes.

Jesse beams around at them all. “Thanks for having us for the weekend, Chloe.”

“Totes,” Chloe waves him off. “Sorry it had to begin with this fundraiser thing, but it will clear out by the evening and we’ll have the place to ourselves. Daddy just loves his parties.”

“Not to be rude or whatever, but is there food here? Emily wouldn’t let us get McDonalds.” Beca glares at Emily and Emily snorts.

“I said we could if you were ready by _two_ , but you weren’t ready until _three_ and then we were late.”

Beca opens her mouth to retaliate, but Chloe giggles, her hand on Beca’s arm. Beca gapes down at it like she’s never seen fingers before.

Aubrey thinks this might be a long weekend.

“There’s plenty of food,” Chloe says. “I can show you guys where you’re sleeping and we can get set up. The party’s supposed to be wrapping up in the next two hours or so.”

“Cool,” Beca grins. Chloe starts chatting to her as she leads them down the hall, but Aubrey holds back, grabbing Emily’s arm before she can follow.

“Oomph,” Emily grunts, spinning back into Aubrey.

Aubrey softens and tugs Emily’s arm toward the stairs. “We’re not sleeping that way.”

“We’re not?”

“No, that’s the Beale’s part of the house. Ours is upstairs.”

Emily raises an eyebrow. “Ours?”

“The Posens,” Aubrey explains. “We share it. Her family and my family bought it together.”

“Oh.” Emily smirks. “So I get to sleep in your room.”

“Obviously.”

Emily laces their fingers together when Aubrey starts up the stairs, giving her hand a squeeze. The sound of the party below gets quieter as they move further into the house. That always baffled Aubrey when she was growing up. As soon as you turn down the hall upstairs, it’s like you’re in a different world, the clinking of glasses and idle chit-chat disappearing with every step.

“So, this is a guest bathroom. There’s one in my room though, so you shouldn’t need it, but just in case. And that door is just an extra room, and this is - ”

Aubrey suddenly finds herself being gently pushed up against the door, the curve of the handle under her wrist as she goes to turn it.

“I - oh.”

Emily’s lips move against her neck, slow and deliberate. “I didn’t get to tell you before, but you look _so_ beautiful, babe,” Emily murmurs into her skin. “It’s hard to keep my eyes off you.”

“Thank you,” she gasps, Emily’s teeth scraping up to her ear. “You... Mmph. Emily,” she whines. “Can we at least go in my room where it’s private?”

“Are we almost there?”

“We’re against the door.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Aubrey kisses Emily’s chin and turns the door handle, leaning back into her room. She pulls Emily in after her and shuts the door. She expects to feel Emily’s hands on her again, but her girlfriend has moved over to the vanity and is peering down at a picture on the dresser.

“Is that you and Chloe? Oh my God.”

Aubrey rolls her eyes, knowing exactly which picture Emily’s looking at. “We were twelve and spent all day on the beach.”

“You look like a lobster, didn’t you wear sunscreen? And look at your braces.” Emily laughs. “Wow, who knew that Aubrey would become this Aubrey. You were so cute.”

“Was I?”

“Yeah.” Emily hums, looking at Aubrey’s other pictures. She goes quiet. “Is this your mom?”

Aubrey moves up behind Emily, wrapping her arms around her and peering around her shoulder. “Yes.”

“She’s beautiful. I see where you get it from.”

“You sure are full of compliments today.”

Emily turns so they’re facing each other. “Do you miss her?” Her hands trail up Aubrey’s neck, fingers curling behind Aubrey’s ears.

“I suppose,” Aubrey murmurs. “She died when I was so young. I don’t remember her as well as I wish I did.”

“Mm.” Emily’s eyes roam over her face, intense and searching. Aubrey feels cocooned in the moment, like it’s just her and Emily staring at each other.

Aubrey jumps when the intercom in her room buzzes.

“ _Hey? Are you in there?”_

Emily stares at her. “What the heck was that?”

Aubrey chuckles. “It’s Chloe.” She steps a few feet to the box on the wall and presses the button. “Yeah, I was just showing Emily around.”

_“I just saw the McDuggins leave, so you know this party’s about to end. Nobody stays when they’re gone. We’re gonna hit the pool. Meet us?”_

“Okay,” Aubrey says into the box. “Give us a bit.”

The intercom blinks off and Aubrey turns around again. “Did you bring a swimsuit?”

“Yep,” Emily grins. “Jesse has our stuff.”

Aubrey nods, reaching up to take her earrings off. “Okay, let me just get changed then.” She sits on her bed, careful not to wrinkle the crisp sheets, and reaches for her heels.

“Let me,” Emily says. She kneels at the side of the bed, fingers sliding up Aubrey’s calf and back down. Then she unbuckles Aubrey’s shoe and slips it off. “You really do look so beautiful, Aubs. I like your dress. Is it new?”

Aubrey softens when Emily massages the sole of her foot. She hums contentedly. “Yeah. I thought you might like it.” The statement makes her blush, but it’s true. She imagined Emily looking at her when she picked it out, pictured her eyes trailing up Aubrey’s legs.

“I do. I like it a lot.” Emily pulls her other heel off, her fingers digging into her muscles, firm but gentle.

“So you don’t want me to take it off, then?” Aubrey teases. “Should I go swimming in it?”

Emily laughs. “Well, probably not. It looks expensive.” Then she’s leaning into Aubrey’s body, reaching for her face.

“Uh.” Aubrey closes her eyes when Emily’s hands cup under her chin. “Okay,” she murmurs, letting Emily lift her face up and bring their lips together. “You could take it off for me?” Aubrey suggests, and Emily laughs into her mouth.

“No, I think I want to keep it on.”

“Well that makes it a little hard to - oh.”

Aubrey stops when she feels Emily’s hand slip under the dress. Her fingers caress over the inside of Aubrey’s thigh and her lips move up to Aubrey’s neck. Heat pools in her stomach and she gasps when Emily drags a finger over her underwear.

“Lean back, baby,” Emily murmurs in her ear, and then her lips disappear as she pushes Aubrey back so she’s flat on the bed. She shivers when she feels her mouth press into the inside of her knee. Her legs still hang over the edge of the bed and she can just barely see the swishing of Emily’s ponytail between them.

“Wh-what are you doing?” Which, okay, Aubrey isn’t daft. She can gather what’s happening, and they’ve slept together before, but this feels… different.

“Let me make you feel good,” Emily murmurs into her skin, her thumb rubbing circles into Aubrey’s calf. She leans her cheek into Aubrey’s knee and looks up at her with wide eyes. “Please?”

The sweetness of it makes Aubrey twist. She nods, a small _okay_ whispering from her mouth, and Emily smiles at her, pretty and happy.

Aubrey lays her head back, trying to breathe evenly.

 _Relax, Aubrey_.

Emily kisses up her legs, sucking softly in places. Aubrey can feel wetness blooming between her legs, arousal itching its way down her body as Emily moves higher. When Emily kisses between her legs, over her underwear, Aubrey’s hands shake.

She grips the comforter beneath her and raises her hips when Emily tugs on the fabric of her underwear. The cool air of the room startles her when Emily lifts one of her legs, bending it up at the knee and settling closer.

 _Relax, Aubrey_.

Anticipation builds in her stomach, her heart beating fast and cheeks heating up when Emily’s nose nuzzles into her thigh. She drags it gently across her skin until Aubrey almost can’t take it. Then her lips press into Aubrey, soft and questioning.

Aubrey gasps, her body jolting. She can feel Emily smiling against her and her chest heaves. She squeezes her eyes shut as Emily’s tongue, warm and wet, slips through her.

 _Relax, Aubrey_.

“Aubrey.” Emily’s voice eases over her and everything seems to slow down, her brain, her heart, her body, until it feels like the air stops and time freezes. “Relax.”

“You just…” Aubrey pants, sucking in a breath. “You feel really good.”

Emily hums softly. Then Aubrey feels her fingers searching over the blankets and she grasps at them, tangling them together. When Emily’s tongue eases inside her, she squeezes her fingers tight.

Emily squeezes back.

Aubrey doesn’t let go, but Emily doesn’t seem to mind. She flattens her tongue against Aubrey’s clit and slips two fingers from her other hand inside, curling the slightest amount. Aubrey’s body buzzes, everything electric when Emily kisses her, sucking gently.

“Em,” she murmurs, her voice low and strangled. She can feel her dress riding up her stomach and her skin warm with sweat. She knows Emily is riling her up, knows Emily likes to tease, but this feels different. Softer.

It occurs to Aubrey, vaguely, somewhere between the fog of sex and desire, of the surrounding everything that is Emily, that this is some kind of tipping point. It’s not like the other times Emily’s made her come, the two of them giggling and lightheaded with lust and _fun_.

This feels…

Aubrey can’t think a description into existence, can only feel the tightening of her abdomen and Emily’s breath inside her as she builds Aubrey closer to release.

She’s about to step over the edge of a precipice, like Alice in the Looking Glass, and it’s not clear to her what’s on the other side. She knows this is the turning point, the one where she falls too deeply and too immediately, but, perhaps, she thinks, pressing her other hand against her forehead and trying to breathe, perhaps she’d already stepped through long ago, when Emily asked her to be her girlfriend, or when she first held her hand, or perhaps even before that, that night they were on the roof.

Perhaps there’s no turning back, perhaps there never was.

Aubrey shudders at the thought, at the curling of Emily’s fingers inside her, her whole body going rigid. She thinks maybe she _is_ stepping through the Looking Glass and maybe the other side is uncertain, but she doesn’t want to stop.

Not when Emily’s placing a last kiss against her thigh and crawling up onto the bed, her face looming over Aubrey’s. She’s looking down at Aubrey softly, and Aubrey focuses on the dangling of her earrings, the soft brush of her ponytail when she leans down to connect their lips.

She stutters a breath out, her body feeling like jelly.

“You’re too good at that,” Aubrey murmurs and she’s not sure she means just the sex. She means at being Emily, at making her feel like _Aubrey_ , present and comfortable.

Emily bites her lip cutely, her nose scrunching. It makes Aubrey feel all kinds of crazy inside. Emily brushes the back of her hand across Aubrey’s cheek. “I love you like this,” she says, and Aubrey know it’s not _I love you_ , but her stomach twists just the same.

“Aubrey!”

They both jump at the pounding on the door and Aubrey prays Chloe won’t open it, can’t remember if she locked it or not.

“Yeah?” She calls, cringing at how her voice rasps.

“I brought Emily’s stuff.”

Emily laughs and kisses Aubrey once on the lips. “Gonna clean up, okay?”

Aubrey nods and pushes off the bed on shaky legs. She tries to smooth down her dress and hair, hoping Chloe won’t say anything. She pulls open the door, acutely aware of her black underwear on the floor behind her.

“Thanks,” Aubrey says, grabbing the drawstring bag Chloe’s holding out to her. “We’ll be right down.”

“Okayyyyy,” Chloe giggles. “Unless you’re already going down?” Then she winks, her eyes dragging up Aubrey’s disheveled outfit.

“Shut up,” Aubrey mutters, and shuts the door in her best friend’s smirking face.

Her laughter echoes from the hallway, and Aubrey might be a little self-conscious, but when Emily puts on a bright red bikini, her body seemingly an endless expanse of muscle and soft skin, Aubrey finds she doesn’t have it in her to care.


	4. King of My Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aubrey had grown up in a world of affluence and money. She’d been raised in cocktail dinners, high-rise office buildings, and limousines. She was no stranger to material niceties, fancy restaurants, expensive gadgets and clothes. And yet, she thinks as Emily presses their lips firmly together, the taste of her overwhelming Aubrey to the point of madness, this is what she knows as luxury.

“That was fucking weak, Swanson. Watch this.”

Aubrey flinches as Beca cannonballs into the pool and water splashes over her.

“Your friends are obnoxious,” she murmurs, twisting her wet bangs behind her ear.

“I know,” Emily chuckles. “But like Chloe’s any better.” She juts her chin toward the water where Chloe and Beca are now engaged in a dunking battle like a pair of tweens left unsupervised at the public pool.

Aubrey grunts and takes a sip of her lemonade. She’s been enjoying the long weekend, but they’re down to their last few hours of daylight, and tomorrow morning they’ll be packing up and heading back into the city.

Next to her, Emily’s lounging in a pool chair, her hand fanning her face as she watches their friends. Her presence is soothing to Aubrey, like the aloe she’d rubbed over her shoulders the night before after spending all day in the sun.

Emily’s skin is sleek with sun, sweat, and pool water. Aubrey catches herself admiring the view too many times to count. Emily’s long legs cross over themselves, her foot tapping an unknown melody. Once in awhile, she laughs at their friends’ antics or adds commentary to whatever stupid game they’ve thought up.

Aubrey wishes she didn't have to go back to reality, where things like school, and money, and her reputation matter. She wishes she could just stay in this moment forever with Emily and their friends.

Even if those idiots _do_ keep splashing her.

//

Chloe pulls her aside the next morning before they head out.

“Why are you squashing me?” Aubrey asks when Chloe squeezes her in a hug so tight she can barely get the words out. “I’m gonna see you later this week.”

“I know,” Chloe says. She leans back, but keeps Aubrey within gripping distance. “I’m just so excited for you I can barely contain it.”

Aubrey peers at her suspiciously. “Why?”

“I just am,” Chloe shrugs. “You seem so happy. And Emily is really great.”

Aubrey glances out the doorway where she can see Emily and her friends packing up the car. Well, Emily’s packing up the car, and Jesse and Beca are roughhousing like a pair of hooligans. As she looks, Emily sets the last bag in the trunk and closes the hatchback. She steps between her friends and puts her arms around their shoulders playfully.

“Yeah,” Aubrey sighs uncharacteristically. “She is.”

Chloe snorts. “See, look at you. Who are you and where is my sullen best friend?”

Aubrey frowns. “Sullen? I’m not sullen.”

“Babe, you’re so sullen they could call you Edward Sullen.”

“I’m beginning to hate that word now.”

“It’s starting to sound fake, isn’t it?” Chloe laughs. “Sullen… sullen. SULLEN!”

Aubrey rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky I met you before we could speak.”

“Oh, there’s the sullennity I’m used to. Sullennity? Sullenness?”

“Goodbye, Chloe.”

“Wait, I have to tell you something before you leave.”

“What?”

Chloe grins mischievously. “I asked out Emily’s friend.”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “Huh. Well, not my type, but he’s pretty nice and cute I guess. I’m happy for you.”

Chloe scrunches her nose. “What? No, not Jesse. I meant Beca.”

“Never mind.”

//

Aubrey’s quiet on the drive back. Not that she could get a word in edgewise between Jesse and Emily, but she’s lost in her own thoughts, so it’s okay.

Emily intertwines their fingers while she drives. Aubrey cups Emily’s hand with both of hers in her lap and stares out the window, watching the highway pass her by, waiting for the first smoggy views of the city.

She feels relaxed, at ease and comfortable with her surroundings in ways she often doesn’t. Emily’s hands are steady and sure on the wheel of her well-loved Ford. Aubrey finds comfort in the faded leather, the miniscule chip in the windshield. Her last girlfriend had had a new and pristine Range Rover, and Aubrey was always scared to sit in it in case she somehow ruined something.

That’s probably why they didn’t work out, Aubrey guesses. That girl had loved her car more than she could ever love Aubrey and Aubrey could ever love her.

Of course, Aubrey hadn’t expected anything less, really.

She was used to that. She had, for the longest time, always thought she would go the road alone, at least until she was in her thirties and had settled into her career and found someone who understood that in her life, there were certain things that were expected to come first, and love wasn’t always one of them.

That was something she had learned very early in her childhood, when she was still small and full of questions about her mother. She had asked her dad why he didn’t date, and he said nobody understood the way his life had to be quite like her mother had. At first, Aubrey didn’t understand this, but as she grew older, she began to see how family and values and sometimes being the best version of himself were not always at the top of his priorities.

Aubrey had tried, in some ways, to be different, but there was so much of this lifestyle ingrained in her that she could not get very far. Aubrey settled for a compromise in that she would love, if she could, from afar.

She did not love like Chloe, not in the reckless and carefree way Chloe did everything, without hesitance or fear. Chloe loved in the present. She felt everything in the moment, as it was happening, the good and the bad.

Aubrey had never loved, or lived, in such a way. She always contemplated on her feelings, always felt the echo of them more than she actual thing. Her feelings were under the surface, even her happiness. Even when she was happy, how often did she genuinely smile? Not for social politeness or to get her way, but truly?

It occurred to her, when she was thinking like this, that she had never planned to change. She had always expected to be this way, to go the way of her father, to do these things because it was what she had always felt. She had always felt her love for people and things at a great distance.

Even herself. She wasn’t completely lacking in self-esteem. She liked herself enough. She enjoyed her own company, did not feel any particular form of loathing at her life. But if she loved herself, she loved herself abstractly, as if she were seeing herself as someone else, a person who was not necessarily her but someone playing out the role of her life.

She loved everything and everyone in this way, as if they were not quite real, but dreams of a reality she might one day inhabit.

And then - Emily.

Aubrey felt it then, had perhaps felt it since the moment Emily had asked Aubrey to go somewhere with her for the very first time without knowing her at all. Maybe it wasn’t love at first sight, but perhaps she loved the idea of how she _felt_ at first sight, present and full.

It was scary, to feel so much. Is this how Chloe felt all the time? Is this how everyone felt?

It was all Aubrey could do to not feel like she might burst out of her body.

Emily had certainly changed her. Or perhaps not changed her, but opened up this part of her that had long been hibernating very deep inside her. She was almost drunk on this feeling, intoxicated with loving Emily and letting Emily love her.

_Relax, Aubrey_.

She shifted in her seat as Emily took her hand back when traffic started to pick up near the city. Emily hadn’t said that, had not professed anything of the sort.

But Aubrey could feel it. She knew. How _else_ could she feel this way? It was not possible to feel this sort of happiness, this kind of energy that shaped your days and changed your priorities, if the person you loved did not love you back.

That wasn’t what Aubrey was afraid of, when she thought about it.

She was afraid that she would tell Emily and this feeling would get sucked right out of her, like water down the drain. She was afraid that this feeling that had at last made its way to the surface would disappear, that Aubrey would be left loving Emily and herself from afar once again.

She wasn’t afraid to tell Emily she loved her out of fear that Emily wouldn’t say it back.

She was afraid that when she told Emily she loved her, when she let this secret out of its wishing-box, it would no longer be true.

//

Aubrey had grown up in a world of affluence and money. She’d been raised in cocktail dinners, high-rise office buildings, and limousines. She was no stranger to material niceties, fancy restaurants, expensive gadgets and clothes.

And yet, she thinks as Emily presses their lips firmly together, the taste of her overwhelming Aubrey to the point of madness, this is what she knows as luxury.

Emily’s fingers on her skin, Emily’s eyes searching her face with the most tender and happy of looks. Had Aubrey ever felt more important than when Emily was looking at her? Not even when she’d once been in a room with the President.

“What are you thinking about?” Emily murmurs, her nose sliding over Aubrey’s cheek gently.

“How happy I am,” Aubrey answers honestly.

Emily pulls back so she can look at Aubrey more fully. “Really?”

“Yes. Why do you sound surprised?”

Emily shrugs, letting her fingers trail through Aubrey’s hair, sprawled out over Emily’s bedsheets. “You have a strange look on your face.”

Aubrey hums, trying to put words to her thoughts and feelings. “I guess I was thinking about how I’ve had all these things all my life, you know? Expensive, fancy, important things that people work for their entire lives and never get. And none of them ever made me feel like I feel when we’re together.”

Emily’s eyes flick between hers. She’s quiet for a long moment. “Me too,” she says at last. “I don’t care about any of that fancy stuff. I just want to be with you.”

“You do?”

“Of course,” Emily says simply. “I love being with you. I love you.”

“Really?”

Emily laughs and presses their noses together. “Really really.”

Aubrey thought this moment would feel different. Heavier, somehow, like the other shoe might drop any second, but all she feels is an overwhelming and unfamiliar giddiness.

“I love you, too,” she says, half-expecting some kind of vortex to open within her and suck her happiness away. It doesn’t.

Emily kisses her, and her happiness magnifies.

“Hmm,” Emily hums. Aubrey maps how beautiful she looks with her eyes, unable to look away. “I love when you smile like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I made your dreams come true.”

In another time and space, Aubrey might have snorted at the cliche of it, but in this moment she thinks maybe cliches are cliches for a reason.

“That’s because you did.”

Emily stares at her in surprise, her eyes widening and face opening in happy wonder. She laughs again. “Are you trying to make me fall more in love with you?”

Aubrey grins. “Well, is it working?”

Emily glances away, blushing and cute. It fills Aubrey with lightness. “Yeah,” Emily says, turning back and pushing her nose into Aubrey’s neck. “Yeah it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's one more chap of this left. dont know when the update will come, but i promise it will. anyway thanks for reading. im at emilyjunk.tumblr.com as always. you know what to do!


	5. New Year's Day (Epilogue)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emily knows that no matter how fancy she dresses, how hard she tries to fit into this scene, she can never quite play the part. But Aubrey, like it or not, fits into this world better than anyone. She commands attention, attracts the gaze and adoration of the people that matter. She’s the perfect blend of personalities for a party like this, aloof and graceful, invested but above it all too. She’s firm, cordial, but warm. She knows just what to say and when to say it. Emily loves how that all disappears when Aubrey looks at her.

Emily wasn’t made for this life, for black tie events and charity functions and all this schmoozing.

She was made for breakfast at midnight and mediocre restaurant chains and walking down the street in her pajama pants at two in the afternoon.

“I think we’re almost there,” Aubrey says, peering out of the taxi window at the passing cross streets.

No, Emily wasn’t made for this life, but maybe she fits into it somehow, in some way she never imagined.

She looks over at Aubrey, trying to comprehend the past two years they’d spent together. She never imagined this is where she’d find her place, where she’d slip into a story in which she actually wanted to play a part.

She had been afraid to hope for such a story to begin because if she fell into the story of this world, she’d be stuck in a place she doesn’t fit, but Aubrey makes her want to see what’s on the next page. They’d both begun new chapters, Emily with her Doctorate program and Aubrey with her journalism career.

Her first major piece is rolling out tomorrow and Emily can see the nerves simmering under her girlfriend’s well-practiced calm. She’s been investigating white collar lawsuit statistics, and although she never named her father in the article, Aubrey knows she might make some waves (and probably some enemies among the powerful), but she didn’t let that stop her.

Emily is really proud of her.

Aubrey squeezes her hand a few times as they pull up to the party. “You ready?”

Emily lets her eyes rake over the explosion of red, white, and blue, the countless banners and signs, all bearing the same message.

_Hardon-Adams 2024._

Emily wasn’t made for this life, but had already accepted her part in this story, wherever it takes her. Whether that’s part of the First Family or it’s girlfriend to Wall Street’s most-hated journalist. They’re in it together, among the cheers and sneers, the strikeouts and home runs, the toasts and thrown tomatoes.

“Yeah,” Emily says, squeezing Aubrey’s hand back. “Let’s do it.”

//

The only good things about these events is the food.

Emily’s always known that.

It’s just, maybe there’s one other good thing, and that’s the sight of Aubrey walking into a room. Aubrey has always left Emily wonderstruck, ever since the first time she saw her, but watching other people look at her like that and knowing Aubrey has eyes for none of them, leaves Emily breathless.

“Let’s find your mom,” Aubrey’s saying, completely oblivious (or maybe so accustomed to it that she doesn’t notice anymore) that everyone in the room’s eyes are on her. Emily knows that no matter how fancy she dresses, how hard she tries to fit into this scene, she can never quite play the part.

But Aubrey, like it or not, fits into this world better than anyone. She commands attention, attracts the gaze and adoration of the people that matter. She’s the perfect blend of personalities for a party like this, aloof and graceful, invested but above it all too. She’s firm, cordial, but warm. She knows just what to say and when to say it.

Emily loves how that all disappears when Aubrey looks at _her_.

She loves the way Aubrey will be having a conversation with some businessman in a three-piece, how he’s hanging on her every word, how Aubrey fronts only the barest hint of interest, and then she looks at Emily - and it all falls away.

Aubrey will visibly relax, will smile, will completely disregard anyone else in the room.

Sometimes Emily can’t take it, so she hovers in the background, trying to be invisible at her own father’s party, and watches Aubrey work some kind of magic on everyone else.

She’ll linger by the dessert table, listening for the deeper timbre of Aubrey’s voice among the clatter of glasses. It’s like a warm hand on her back and she remembers that even if all this is so petty, so fake, what she has with Aubrey isn’t.

She knows the illusion of realness that exists with these people and at these parties should scare her, that her part in Aubrey’s story could be an extension of it all, but she’s not afraid of that.

She’s more afraid of what would happen if she somehow fell out of Aubrey’s story. If it somehow began to make more sense for Aubrey to step back into the part she was always supposed to play instead of this new part, the one that she wants to be in, the one that includes Emily.

What if everything got too difficult, and this masquerade of smiles and fleeting laughter began to seem more appealing again? Emily knows Aubrey has always been nervous that Emily couldn’t handle dating someone with the Posen reputation. What if she thought Emily would leave?

Emily thinks back to when she first met Aubrey, how scared she was to hope that it could be the start of their story because she didn’t know where that story would end. She doesn’t know what’s going to happen in the middle, but she knows the last page, knows it more than anything.

Emily stays. How could she not?

She hears Aubrey’s laugh drift out of the crowd, recognizable even among all these socialites and politicians. She takes a deep breath and silently closes her eyes.

 _Please,_ she thinks, sending a wish to the universe. _Please don’t ever become a stranger whose laugh I could recognize anywhere_. _Please_.

“Em?” She opens her eyes as a hand lands on her cheek. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere. What are you doing?”

Emily blushes at Aubrey’s look of concern. Aubrey has always made it easy to feel bold, but tonight is bringing out a certain sentimentality in her. She’s just realized it’s the first major event they’ve attended together since they met and she’s feeling nostalgic.

“Nothing,” she shrugs. “Raiding the dessert table.”

Aubrey softens, her eyes fond. “I should’ve known.”

“Yeah you should’ve.”

Aubrey laughs and shakes her head. Then she holds up a bottle of champagne. “I stole this. Will you go somewhere with me?”

Emily scrunches her nose. “Really babe? Of all the parties… you know I can’t leave this one.”

“Who said we were leaving?” Aubrey raises an eyebrow mischievously. Her smile sends a shot of happiness and love and something else through Emily.

 _Focus, Emily_.

“Oh,” she says. “Okay.”

When Aubrey holds out her hand, Emily takes it and lets her lead the way.

//

“The roof?”

“What’d you expect?”

“It’s a bit clichè.”

Aubrey scoffs. “So when you do it, it’s endearing and when I do it, it’s silly.”

Emily gives her girlfriend a smile. “I didn’t say that.”

“Just sit down.”

Emily laughs, but obliges. “Yes, ma’am.”

They trade the bottle of champagne back and forth, laughing at nothing. Emily watches Aubrey’s cheeks begin to pink from the chill of the air and the champagne, loves the way she closes her eyes and smiles up at the sky. Loves the way her entire body comes to life when Aubrey squeezes her hand.

She shivers.

“Here,” Aubrey says, taking off her suit jacket and draping it over Emily’s shoulders. Emily pulls it tight around herself even if she’s not cold, tucking her nose into the collar to smell Aubrey’s formal occasion perfume.

When she glances up, Aubrey’s eyes on hers, happy and bright.

“What?” Emily scrunches her nose, tucking a wayward piece of hair behind her ear.

“Move in with me.”

Emily laughs. “Okay.”

Aubrey pauses. “I’m serious.”

“Yeah, I know,” Emily grins. “So am I.”

Aubrey frowns, staring at Emily. “That’s… I mean, I had this whole speech planned.”

Emily laughs again. “Did you really think I needed convincing?”

“No, I guess not.” Aubrey hesitates, pouting. “It just seems like the type of thing you give a speech for.”

“I can’t believe you’re disappointed because I said yes _too_ quickly.”

“I’m not disappointed!”

Emily snorts. “You so are.”

“Your teasing is so uncalled for.”

Emily can’t stop smiling. She turns so she’s facing Aubrey fully. “Okay give me the speech then.”

“No,” Aubrey hmphs. “It’s too late.”

“Please?”

Aubrey clenches her jaw, but Emily can see the smile in her eyes. She sighs, her shoulders dropping. “Fine.” She grabs Emily’s hands in hers, looking Emily in the eyes seriously.

Emily bites back a laugh.

“Stop it or you’re not getting the speech.”

“Okay, sorry.”

“Emily,” Aubrey begins. “Will you move in with me?”

Emily squeezes Aubrey’s hands. “Yes.”

“You’re supposed to be like, ‘move in with you?’, otherwise you just said yes again.”

“Right, sorry.” Emily can’t stop smiling. “Will I move in with you? I’m not sure, can you please convince me?”

Aubrey snorts. “Moving on.” She clears her throat. “Yes, I want to move in together. When I met you, I didn’t know it was possible for me to feel like this about a person. I knew other people were capable of it, but it just didn’t seem like this kind of love was in the cards for me.”

Emily pouts. “That makes me sad.”

“Emily.”

“Sorry.”

Aubrey smiles before putting her serious facade back up. “Anyway. I just… I see forever with you, Em. I want to be with you for everything. For the good, the bad, the ugly. For the times we’re lost and scared. I wanna be with you for every celebration. I want to be with you when it’s hard and when things are wrong and when we’re both making mistakes. I want to be with you for every midnight kiss and I want to wake up next to you in the morning. And I know that’s a lot, that it’s going to be a long road with my career and the election and everything. We don’t have to commit to that kind of forever right this second. That’s not what I’m asking. I’m just asking that maybe we can _start_ that kind of forever together. You and me. So, let’s get a place together. Move in with me. I love you.”

Emily feels love for Aubrey burst in her heart. This is _her_ girlfriend. Her smart, brave, beautiful, headstrong girlfriend.

“Well?” Aubrey asks, staring at her.

“Well what?”

“Aren’t you going to answer?”

Emily laughs again. “I was thinking about it.”

“You’re literally the most insufferable person.”

“Okay,” Emily chuckles, taking Aubrey’s cheeks in her hands. “Listen, I want that kind of forever with you, too. I’m staying through all that stuff, the good, the mistakes, the long road.” Emily shrugs. “I love you. Forever.”

“Really?”

Emily rolls her eyes good-naturedly. “Really, really.”

When Aubrey smiles, Emily can’t believe the world doesn’t stop to look, but no. It’s just her and Aubrey on the roof, and below, the world moves on.

“Hmm,” Aubrey hums happily, her smile too large to be contained.

Emily never thought she’d slip into a story like this. Not with this elegant, worldly, phenomenal girl.

And yet -

She closes her eyes, the space between them disappearing in an instant.

“Are you trying to make me the happiest person ever?” she says, her face just inches from Aubrey’s.

Aubrey laughs against her lips. “Is it working?”

“Yeah,” Emily whispers. “It most definitely is.”

When they finally kiss, Emily really is sure the world must stop.

//

Emily’s distracted on the drive home. She knows she’s supposed to be listening to Aubrey’s story about Chloe and Beca, but she’s thinking of Aubrey’s version of forever.

Once, Emily had been afraid to let herself hope for a beginning. Now, maybe it’s the end of the beginning, and instead of hope, she feels a ringing certainty in her chest. Aubrey is right; it is going to be a long road, but they have each other. There was always going to be people that disapproved of them, of Aubrey’s father, of their relationship.

Emily knows that’s a side effect of this world. Of any world, really. They can handle it, the two of them. Together, they’re strong.

Aubrey is still ranting on about Chloe-something-or-other and Emily lets it lull her into a soft happiness. She reaches across the seat, lacing their fingers together, thinking about Aubrey smiling on the roof, the two of them sharing champagne bubble kisses until they had to slip back to the party, back to reality.

She gives it a second for it all sink in, forming a memory she’ll hold on to tighter than she’s holding Aubrey’s hand, and lets herself get swept up in the story of the moment, the here and the now, she and Aubrey until the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me, starting AND finishing a multichapter WIP in the same year????? it's more likely than you think. we made it kids im cryin. anyway thank u for reading and commenting i appreciate you guys a lot. junksen is just so cute and i adore their different personalities so much. as always, you can reach me at emilyjunk on tumblr. 
> 
> also just bc i can, here's a plug for my new pitch perfect podcast with user jesseswanson. check us out on tumblr at pitchperfectpodcast if youre interested! our new episode is coming in the next couple days.
> 
> HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> scream at me? emilyjunk.tumblr.com


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